


Gradually Gentle

by ScarfyTheShipster



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Banter, Bisexual Claude von Riegan, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Intimacy, Love Confessions, Love Poems, M/M, Poetry, Romantic Comedy, Self-Indulgent, Sharing a Bed, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21526036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarfyTheShipster/pseuds/ScarfyTheShipster
Summary: Claude knew it. He’d practically smelled the snobbish poet in Lorenz the first month of school. Now, as he unfurled a crumpled sheet of parchment from the floor in Lorenz’s bedroom, he was taken aback.My heart has been taken in many waysRigid words fall into perfect meterWith rehearsed songs I sing the goddess praiseFormulaic rhythm, never sweeterNow that structure is gone he- he breaks itWordless, senseless, relentlessMy steady march loses its surefooted tempoVerdant eyes gaze at me smirking with challengeDifferences so familiar ignite a long smothered fireHow I beg, how?! Can he chip away at polished marbleA marvel when warm, calloused hands brush by mineEverything he is is gold- sunshine, chamomile, words far too boldI’ve been tripped without a place to fallI yearn to reach out to that Fallen StarTo feel a touch beyond coincidentalBut it cannot be, I plead to know why this must plague meWithout him I will wilt without a cureHe must never know, of this I am sure
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester & Claude von Riegan, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 25
Kudos: 253





	Gradually Gentle

This was supposed to have been an uneventful trip to Lorenz’s quarters to drop off some battle plans for review. In their time as fellow leaders- Lorenz finally cooperating as such under Claude’s command- the bond between them had flourished with productivity. Claude had seen the absence of barbs and only a few habitually thrown darts as a matter of personal growth and respect on Lorenz’s part. Any lingering bitterness for the antagonistic relationship they’d once had was practically nonexistent. Claude was the last person who could dismiss another for clear mistrust. Even if it was never deserved, and still perpetuated behind the closed doors of the inner circles of Alliance nobles.

This cast a new light on things. 

Claude knew it. He’d practically smelled the snobbish poet in Lorenz the first month of school. Now, as he unfurled a crumpled sheet of parchment from the floor in Lorenz’s bedroom, he was taken aback.

If this had been anyone else, Claude might’ve thought it was intentional. A clear ruse laid out for him to find. In fact, he still held his suspicions- but the way the typically flowing, tutor-esque penmanship on the parchment seemed to waver and falter with the passion of such turbulent words had him leaning towards believing it a genuine piece.

A piece of Lorenz he’d evidently tried to destroy but couldn’t burn- a fragment of soul he could hide but not bear to banish:

My heart has been taken in many ways  
Rigid words fall into perfect meter  
With rehearsed songs I sing the goddess praise  
Formulaic rhythm, never sweeter  
Now that structure is gone he- he breaks it  
Wordless, senseless, relentless  
My steady march loses its surefooted tempo  
Verdant eyes gaze at me smirking with challenge  
Differences so familiar ignite a long smothered fire  
How I beg, how?! Can he chip away at polished marble  
A marvel when warm, calloused hands brush by mine  
Everything he is is gold- sunshine, chamomile, words far too bold  
I’ve been tripped without a place to fall  
I yearn to reach out to that Fallen Star  
To feel a touch beyond coincidental  
But it cannot be, I plead to know why this must plague me  
Without him I will wilt without a cure  
He must never know, of this I am sure

Claude bit his lip, heart pounding. It was so clearly about him of all people it might as well have had been addressed to his suite in House Riegan.

But what to do with it? Leave it, pretend he’d never read it, give Lorenz the chance to actually burn it?

Or keep it, mull it over? Such a sensitive document would be noticeably absent, but Lorenz had discarded it on the floor. Perhaps he’d shrug it off. Claude stuffed it in his pocket and left the room, not even bothering to drop the tactical charts off.

-~-

Claude monitored everyone around him with a casual hypervigilance he doubted he’d ever be free of. Now he had a focused target. 

“Hey Lorenz- think you can survive breakfast beside me?”

Lorenz blinked, a hint of a smile on his face despite the instinctive light tone he took when getting ready for volleys of banter. Even if this new knowledge of him didn’t bear fruit beyond Claude knocking down a few more of Lorenz’s defenses with ease, he could live with that. “I suppose it’s no less or greater a trauma than some days on the battlefield, hm?”

“You wound me- still upset over the times I drank my oatmeal?” Claude grinned and slung his legs around the dining hall chair as he sat a little too wide, brushing Lorenz’s calf as if by overconfident accident. 

Lorenz, to his credit, didn’t react beyond a slight exhale of breath into his sweet bun. “Truly unforgivable, pretending oatmeal is a type of soup.”

“It’s a mostly liquid form in a bowl.” This was a fire Claude couldn’t help stoke, and he settled in for the best conversation he could possibly have that day. Lorenz seemed to do the same.

“That is no excuse- by that account all beverages are soup as well!”

“Hey, could be! Milk is now cow soup.”

“Be serious. Even a stew, which has quite a few similarities in flavor, is not considered soup. It’s based on intent.”

“Intent? Do elaborate, Professor Gloucester.”

“Language is based around shared ideas and concepts. Fiddling with the dictionary definition of a soup to include things which society at large does not deem soup does not change the word itself.”

“Ooooh, but language evolves with time. Someday, perhaps soup will have its definition expanded. For example, custard is close to a sweet soup.”

“Even if it WAS-“ Lorenz huffed. Claude always considered Lorenz’s huffs, eyerolls, sighs, and groans as small victories. It was as easy as a mage snapping their fingers to conjure a fireball to heat Lorenz up. “Soup would become such a broad category the word is rendered irrelevant and you would still have to specify that the dish in question is custard!”

Claude smirked at him, unrestrained glee on his face strikingly contrasted Lorenz’s haughty, argumentative airs. However, even Lorenz looked amused under it all. “Oatmeal is wheat soup in Almyran.”

Lorenz glared at Claude, eyes narrowed as the far side of his longer lengths of his violet hair framed his angular face. Lorenz was pretty when he was irritated. Claude wondered if he always had been. “You’re bluffing. There’s no way that’s true.”

“Would I start an argument I couldn’t win?”

“Yes. You do often.”

“Well, can you prooove me wrong?” Claude didn’t get to act this smug nearly as often as he wanted to and relished the opportunity.

Lorenz ‘hmmphed’ with about as much prissiness as was physically possible, but a light laugh cracked its way through his facade. “You’ve hardly won if you think pulling out a fact I can’t check makes you correct. Also, that’s toast on your plate- not oatmeal. There’s no feasible way you can slurp that.”

“I don’t back down from challenges.” Claude bit into his toast and crunched it pointedly, almost laughing aloud as Lorenz’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I got you going, huh?”

“I’ve learned you aren’t a man I should underestimate,” replied Lorenz cryptically. 

For all their traded, playful quips- there wasn’t a hint of venom in Lorenz anymore. Claude finished his breakfast with Lorenz on his mind, wondering when this subtle shift had even happened. Surely in the months the Golden Deer had reunited. He was more willing to play along, bend and adapt to other ways of thinking. It went beyond their breakfast debate in ways Claude had taken for granted. 

He needed to test further- not just Lorenz’s heart, but his own.

Love was the last thing on his mind as leader of House Riegan and Almyran crown prince. Flirts aside, he hadn’t been serious yet with anyone. Whatever course the wind blew him towards- and it was looking east- marriage was an afterthought. The backdrop of relationships blooming or or decaying in their tentative exploratory schooldays or the desperate uncertain passion of wartime almost never touched him. 

Lorenz had always seemed preoccupied with marriage. Well- until now, Claude realized. He felt the parchment he’d started to carry in his pocket and frowned as it crinkled mutely under the fabric. Was he the cause of the salvation of the ladies of Garreg Mach from Lorenz Hellman Gloucester? That was absurd, but the shoe fit. 

Much of the poem didn’t make sense. Claude looked over their schedules and found a free spot of time in a couple days for afternoon tea.

-~-

“I have the pleasure of your company twice in hardly more than as many days? Should I be honored or concerned?”

“I find a variety to be wisest.” Claude relaxed across the table from Lorenz, leaning back with a seemingly lazy grin. Despite hosting Lorenz for tea, it was Lorenz himself who automatically insisted on preparing it. Leicester Cortania was too expensive to not leave to the resident tea aficionado. 

Back in their academy days, time in strictly the other’s company always had a current of tension to it. Palatable distrust, keen eyes on the lookout for the cracks between the plates of the other’s armor even under the guise of a cup of tea. Now, Claude’s body relaxed genuinely in the sunshine, blinking as he basked in it.

Sunshine, chamomile, words far too bold- it felt less a love poem and more a riddle. 

“Claude? It is at optimal drinking temperature.” Lorenz sounded pleased. Claude took his teacup and sipped it, nodding along as Lorenz gushed a little. “Truly, it’s times like these I feel better rested than even after a full night’s rest. Tea and companionship have many benefits you know- it is efficient to partake in them simultaneously.”

Claude chuckled deep from his throat. It was so amicable- peaceful. “I can’t believe it sounds like you’re saying I’m good for your health. Remember five years ago? We’d be at each other’s throats.”

“Oh, the days of our youth?” Despite his dramatic words, Lorenz sounded serious. “I miss some of my younger years, but I’m far more content with our dynamic now.”

“Youth- neither of us have hit 25 yet, Lorenz.”

“Even so, I’ve been finding an alarming amount of silver in my heliotrope.” Lorenz was lighter again, though Claude found himself mildly concerned on Lorenz’s behalf. Also, he was irritated that Lorenz couldn’t just say purple. “I do not take tomorrow for granted- or let myself feel youthful beyond how I can use it for our cause. That is the heavy truth.”

Claude hummed contemplatively. “You carry too much of the world on your shoulders for a lovely afternoon at the monastery. I’ve heard it said that silver hair is a crown of wisdom. Perhaps it’s also a badge of honor for having lived with me.”

Lorenz’s laugh was a tad loud but kind. “Perhaps! Oh, you aren’t all to blame. My own antics still haunt me on occasion.”

Rather than dive into that rich but negative topic, Claude sipped more tea and let a natural lull take place for a few minutes. He could whip out the poem and start grilling Lorenz about it- but he preferred not to scare him away. He eyed Lorenz over the rim of his cup. Lorenz, off duty, was pleasant to be around. Even on duty he was possibly the most dependable lieutenant Claude had.

A future with someone loyal and comfortable sounded as- if not more- satisfying than an instantly passionate romance at first sight. The curiously budding feelings in Claude’s chest made him realize no one had ever so boldly, genuinely held such feelings for him and it was in his nature to want them. To consider it. 

“What’re your views on love, Lorenz?”

As predicted, Lorenz choked on his tea. The tips of his ears turned pink and his eyes drifted to Claude and then fixed themselves determinedly on a rhododendron bush. “Those have not changed. My House and myself require a spouse of proper-“

“That’s not the question I asked,” pressed Claude gently. “Not your way of marrying like you’re already dead and embroidered on a family tree tapestry. Love. The perfect relationship to wake up to. That’s what I want to know.”

Lorenz tore his gaze from the flowers he hadn’t really been looking at and gave Claude a questioning tilt of his head. “Well- why? To be quite honest, such matters are of little concern to me.” Obviously a lie. “My House, my father- they come first. I do not fixate on the details of what a romantically inclined relationship could entail before I have it.”

“I refuse to believe a man like you doesn’t dream.”

“I-“ Lorenz sighed and busied himself with refilling their cups. “I imagine something harmonious. Someone I love who I can trust to keep me honest and striving to be my best for Fódlan.” Claude wondered if he truly fit that description. He wondered how many other people like Lorenz wanted a spouse to keep them accountable. “When I think of romance it’s something soft and sweet and- ah, something I’ve painfully learned over the years that I can’t expect to fall into my lap.”

“Growing pains are good pains,” pointed out Claude. 

Lorenz hid in his teacup again, perhaps trying to pass off his sudden rosiness as the tea being hot. “And you? I answered such a personal question. It’s fair you do the same. I wonder how our outlooks may compare.”

Leave it to Lorenz to turn a talk of love into an intellectual conversation. Claude shrugged. “Much of the same, I guess. Someone to keep me on my toes, but also to give me support and comfort when I need it. Someone I feel I can trust to actually let my guard down around because I know they have my best interests at heart.” Claude smiled wistfully. “I’d like someone to really get to know me. I think I want what everyone does- someone to care for and the ability to let them care for me just as deeply in return.”

Lorenz’s slightly trembling hands, their combined effort to use neutral pronouns, and the new but welcome tension between them of learning more and more about each other went undiscussed. Lorenz nodded, eyes anywhere but Claude’s face. “I have no doubt you’ll find that wonderful person. That too is- better, purely out than I could do on a moment’s notice, but is my wish as well.”

Claude was tempted to reach out and take Lorenz’s hand. No, Lorenz was too emotionally invested in the moment. It might’ve frightened him away. It was hard to believe the ever composed man in front of him, who was so distant from his own heart in the light of day, could write such candid poetry with shaking hands. Claude wondered if Lorenz knew the only parts he kept hidden were his best qualities. “You’ll find happiness too. There’s a whole world outside the threshold of your father’s house. You might just meet someone improper enough to love you.”

Lorenz chuckled softly, eyes flicking up to Claude with unchecked affection before going back to his tea. “If there is anything I could absorb from you, it is your optimism for matters both personal and business.” 

“And if I absorb one thing from you, it’ll be how to fake my way through being serious.”

Lorenz shook his head slightly, still with fondness on his face. How had Claude not noticed this new Lorenz all this time? “As un-noble as you are, your easygoing, direct nature instills confidence in your peers and those under your command. Questionable methods for eating oatmeal aside, your differences may be a benefit.”

“I know I’ve said it before, but where’s the real Lorenz?”

“I could also ask where’s the real Claude?” Lorenz grinned. “This amount of time together and not one true dig at me.”

“I can grow up too you know- but okay, I’ll say it. I hate that you said ‘heliotrope’ instead of purple. You’re the most pretentious person I’ve ever met.”

Though, the fact that got an amused smile only tinged with exasperation proved Lorenz was less insufferable than Claude gave him credit for. 

Claude couldn’t believe he was falling for a straitlaced, formal, arrogant noble. As he watched Lorenz tend to their tea dishes he pondered that maybe the lord of roses was more than all his endearingly irritating faults. 

-~-

Weeks passed.

Claude made an effort to spend more time with Lorenz- and it ceased being an effort almost immediately. Lorenz, despite his apparent romantic feelings, still argued with Claude on important military matters but was content to lose if soundly beaten. Claude realized halfway through one of them that it was a sign of investment.

Lorenz wanted someone who would keep him sharp and confident in every decision, vetting every angle of a situation. It was a service he provided for Claude.

Claude huffed and shook his head as he wandered the corridors of the dormitories. Lorenz had an odd way of showing affection.

And he was going to get to the bottom of it.

Claude knocked lightly on Lorenz’s door, dressed down to slacks and an only half buttoned shirt for the night. While the sun had long set it was still early enough in the evening to bet he was still awake. The polite, “Come in,” he got as a response proved him right.

Lorenz also seemed in the process of getting ready to retire for the night. His armor was long set aside and he was in a crisp white dress shirt with a tan academy waistcoat over it. Lorenz in private was still as formal as some students had been out in public. 

He closed the door with a soft click. Lorenz’s quarters were unbearably tidy to Claude. Claude wasn’t comfortable unless he fell asleep with his head in a book or the corners of one digging into his skin, while Lorenz kept everything from his shelves to desk meticulously organized. The poem he’d found on the floor must’ve been an anomaly. For all its cleanliness it was cozy with candlelight, contrasting warmly to the drizzling rain outside the windows, drops running down behind carefully arranged vases of roses. 

“Sit with me?” Claude sat on the edge of Lorenz’s bed and tried for a reassuring smile as Lorenz sat next to him.

“Of course. This is sudden,” ventured Lorenz, tone wary.

“Nothing bad,” promised Claude. 

They were only a foot or two apart. Claude could see in Lorenz’s too tightly wound posture he was nervous. Best get to the point. Claude gently reached out and covered Lorenz’s hand with his own. Lorenz’s breath caught, but he didn’t pull away. Claude took it as a good sign. “I know, Lorenz.”

“I’m sorry.” Lorenz’s expression wilted as did the angle of his head, looking away. “I did not mean to be obvious. Any offending conduct I need to amend shall be-“

“Woah, woah! I said it was nothing bad!” 

Lorenz didn’t give him the chance to elaborate. “I have no business having such amorous, improper, unfruitful affections for-“

“LORENZ.” Claude stood up, still holding Lorenz’s hand. He stood directly in front of him. Lorenz still refused to look him in the eyes and Claude dug in his pocket for the poem. He held it out and Lorenz blanched and snatched at it- but Claude tanked his hand back holding it far out of his reach. “Lorenz- please tell me if these words are true.”

“They don’t matter-“ Lorenz made a move to get up and Claude grit his teeth and lightly held him back with his palm, still holding the worn parchment far away. 

“They don’t matter? Your feelings don’t matter?!” 

“That’s right!” Lorenz snapped, finally raising his head to look up and glance between Claude and his poem. “Forget you ever saw it!”

“No! You know why?” Claude threw it behind him and held Lorenz’s shoulders with both hands, gently squeezing as he leaned close. “MY feelings matter.”

Claude hadn’t gone in expecting any particular outcome for this reason. Lorenz’s instant dismissal of himself would’ve hurt too much if he had. Instead they stared at each other, intimately close. Lorenz closed just eyes and trembled, hands clenching the bedding under him. “Claude I beg of you, please don’t toy with me.”

“You are a valuable ally and friend. Is it so wrong that I was touched by what you wrote, that I want that closeness with you?” Claude slid one hand up and stroked Lorenz’s cheek, brushing his longer portions of hair off his face and angling his head up. “You know what kind of love I wish for. I’m tired of being alone and so are you. I’m tired of keeping everyone at arm’s length. You never made it easy to keep secrets and I don’t want you to ever stop getting closer.”

Lorenz stared like he could hardly believe Claude was real. Claude could feel his pulse leaping, his palm cupping Lorenz’s jaw with his fingertips resting above his vein. Lorenz took a deep breath, finally leaning into the touch. He hesitantly reached out and laid his hands on Claude’s waist. “Our families-“

“Stop it. What do you, Lorenz, want?”

Lorenz’s skin warmed under Claude’s touch and that was his immediate clue as to what was happening next. Lorenz sealed the gap between them, lips soft and curious against Claude’s. Claude hummed with approval, kissing back but letting Lorenz lead them, shaking with pleasant nerves and subtly holding Claude’s waist tighter. He broke apart after a few seconds, flushed and shy. “Am I worthy of you, Claude Von Riegan?”

“People aren’t worthy of each other, for the record. You are-“ Claude grinned, burying his hand deeper into Lorenz’s hair and relishing his body’s rippling shuddering reaction. “-as long as saying full names in bed isn’t a thing with you.”

Lorenz’s laughter was more joyful than Claude had ever heard it. The Lorenz that had written that poem seemed to be coming out second by second. He pulled Claude flush against the edge of the mattress, between his knees and kissed him again, smiling and eager. Claude took it as permission to kiss back as much as he wanted, their heads angled to kiss deeper and deeper. His free hand migrated towards Lorenz’s neck and he smirked, dragging his fingertips against Lorenz’s throat and chuckling at the soft whine it drew from him.

“I haven’t even properly seduced you yet and you’re already so perfect for me,” he murmured lowly. Lorenz’s face was a bright pink as Claude kissed him again and trailed his fingertips down, easily popping the buttons on Lorenz’s vest with his eyes closed. 

“Hmmm- Claude.” Lorenz let Claude shrug off his vest. “Nothing- er-“ Lorenz waved his hands vaguely. “Sylvain-like.”

“Sexual?”

“Yes, so you say. I’m not- I mean I want to but-“

“Hush.” Claude kissed Lorenz’s forehead. “I’d never ask you to do something you aren’t ready for.”

Lorenz reached up and stroked Claude’s cheek, pads of his fingertips memorizing the feel of his short beard. “Would you share my bed with me? I- I will need to undress a bit more but I’d appreciate your companionship-“

“Yes, I like snuggling.” Claude winked. “I normally wear my loungewear but I’ll be happy to get out of this and rely on you for warmth.”

“Oh- I wondered why you were dressed as such.”

“Hm, thought a love confession would go over better with you if I wasn’t in yellow shorts.”

Lorenz urged Claude towards him with a chuckle, scooting so he was lying back on his pillow with Claude over him, the two still close enough to feel each other’s breath. “You’re right. I-“ he sighed, words dying in his throat as he stared up at Claude’s bright eyes, reaching out to caress his jaw. “Claude, you are the only one who can render me speechless,” he whispered. 

“I seem to not be doing a good job of that.” Claude kissed Lorenz again, not immune to their kisses either. Lorenz’s rosy hue was clearer than the heat gradually simmering inside Claude’s core. He propped himself up with one palm against the mattress and unbuttoned Lorenz’s dress shirt, unable to stop himself from teasing him with his fingertips against his bare stomach. Lorenz whined again and rolled his hips, arching into the light touches. 

“Claude-“

“Not Sylvain-like, I know,” he murmured. 

Lorenz surprised him by initiating a confident kiss, palms against Claude’s chest. He moved them down to pop open the rest of Claude’s shirt, slender fingers light against Claude’s better built muscles. “Maybe,” he said lowly as he pushed the fabric off Claude’s torso, “a little Sylvain-like is fine. Just to here.”

“We gotta stop saying Sylvain’s name in our bed.”

“Goddess, you’re right.” Lorenz hummed and tossed aside his own shirt, enamored and relaxed. They gravitated towards each other again, melding together, hands mapping out the other, exchanging gasps and soft cries. Lorenz was more sensitive than Claude was expecting, reacting to almost everything. Claude enjoyed it immensely, his own body pleasantly warm with Lorenz’s gentle, comforting touch.

Eventually, the cares of the day made their eyes fall closed more than the etiquette of kissing did. Lorenz held Claude almost protectively, tall and gangly height allowing him to embrace Claude fully with Claude’s head tucked under his chin. The candles were extinguished and all they could hear was the soothing rain and each other’s breathing. 

Claude kissed Lorenz’s collarbone, settling in with a sigh under the soft blankets. The bed was small enough they absolutely had to cuddle close, and neither minded at all. “Lorenz, why did you call me chamomile? I can’t figure that one out for the life of me.”

“Oh.” Lorenz planted a kiss on top of Claude’s hair. “It’s silly, but I find your presence, your capabilities I suppose, calming. It’s reassuring to have a partner, especially a leader, who I can rely on.”

“Hmmm.” Claude absently dragged his thumb against Lorenz’s shoulder, rubbing his fingers in light circles around the tip of bone. “You sounded uncertain in your faith in that poem.”

Lorenz stroked Claude’s back, palm dipping in the curve of his spine with soothing motions. “No, not anymore. I am confident in my faith. It is only that my expression was so similar to the empty words of other nobles. I wish my life to be genuine, inside and out. It was a shock to me to realize, before I fell for you, how much I repressed even inside me. I love you. I value many other things too, and I wish to abide by them.”

Claude stilled his motion and rested his arm around Lorenz’s waist. He looked up at him. “I’m proud of you. I guess after kissing you all this time I better come clean about loving you too.”

“Ha. What a strange, lovely thing to bloom between us.”

Claude snorted. “You’re telling me. But I wouldn’t unread that poem for anything.”

A few silent minutes passed, and Claude was on the verge of falling into a deep, perfect sleep. Lorenz shifted next to him and sighed. “Claude?”

“Yes? About to tell me you snore?”

“No.” Lorenz grimaced in the dim room only distantly lit by the moon. “I looked it up. Oatmeal really is referred to using the Almyran word for soup.”

Claude laughed brightly. “I told you!”

“I’m horribly upset.” Lorenz sounded more like he was restraining laughter than upset.

“Well you’ll just have to learn all the beautiful Almyran words to make up for it.” Claude grinned. “You can write me love poems in my native language!”

He’d meant it as a joke, but Lorenz hummed with consideration. “It would be useful to know for diplomacy...” Claude kept that he would most likely be the diplomat Lorenz needed to talk to to himself. “...and it’s a challenge. I accept.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Lorenz kissed Claude’s temple. “I wish for us to fall in love again and again, my poems a means to truly tell you when my spoken words fizzle out in my throat. I’d learn every language there is for you to read it in.”

Claude swallowed hard, face warm again and touched to his core. He meant to tell Lorenz as such. What came out was, “Your accent will be so god awful I can’t wait.”

A final huff of mirth and they both slept more soundly than they ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you so much for reading! This is my first claurenz fic and just went wild with it haha
> 
> His poem starts as a sonnet, does a few donuts while screaming, and ends back as a sonnet- hopefully it is worthy of Lorenz 
> 
> I had so much fun! you can find me at stressbakingelf.tumblr.com


End file.
